


Socializing Is More Trouble Than It's Worth

by bre_meister



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Claire takes a bit of a back seat but is still a badass, F/M, Heavy mentions of sex, Jealousy, Married Couple, Stuffy Social Events, idk how to effectivly tag this, protective leon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:08:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24802876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bre_meister/pseuds/bre_meister
Summary: One downside of working a high-level government job is the high-level government soirees you're acquired to attend.or:Leon will not stand for another man talking up his wife!
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Claire Redfield
Comments: 10
Kudos: 75





	Socializing Is More Trouble Than It's Worth

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! just thought I'd pop in with a quick one-shot. It started off really light-hearted and got a little heavy towards the end so I marked the rating as M just to be safe (although I could have probably gotten away with a T). Based on both a prompt and an idea for a separate fic. I hope you enjoy it! Not Betaed WE GO DOWN LIKE MEN!

It was safe to say that Claire felt lost - lost and a little out of place. She loved a good party like the next girl - dressing up, drinking with her friends, dancing the night away. However, a  _ gala _ is nothing like a party. Unfortunately, one of the few downsides of being married to a government agent with deep personal ties to the president is that sometimes Claire had strap up her boots - or in this case her red bottoms, one of the few expensive gifts she allowed her husband to buy her for instances exactly like this - and endure a gala or two.

Claire couldn’t even remember what this specific gathering was for. All she knew was that, for some reason she didn’t bother unearthing, Leon was required to attend and, by extension his ever dutiful wife was also expected to make an appearance. The two had made a pact way back when they had just started dating that they would never let each other suffer through one of these pompous black-tie events alone. Somehow, though, that was just what she seemed to be doing - suffering.  _ Alone. _

Things had been looking up when they arrived. The crowded hall was decorated modestly - the theme simple. Claire believed someone was being given an award tonight for something she honestly couldn’t bother herself to care about. Once you live through what she and her family had it truly takes a lot to garner their invested interest. 

Leon knew his wife was not of the “traditional” sense. Sure, she could cook a few things here and there and they had begun recently discussing the possibilities of having children, but Claire has always been hands-on in that sexy, confident, way he loves. Don’t get it twisted, she has nothing but the utmost respect for those women who find their calling in taking on the home front, after all, that’s not an easy job (she’d seen how hard her mother worked when she was younger, before the accident) but that life wasn’t for her. Not after everything, she’s been through at least. And being raised by her burly, train-a-holic brother didn’t exactly instill in her the needed skills to do such - no, her skills were better suited for the field. Claire knows that Leon knows and he knows that she knows he knows. Besides, from what she can tell, most of the women at these events wouldn’t know what a mop was if it hit them in the face. Claire is far from  _ ever _ being a trophy wife but, at these events, she tends to take a step back, let Leon take the lead. After all, he knows these people and this space better than she does. 

So she plays the part. He whisks her around the room, introducing her to people she will have forgotten by the end of the night. She turns up her natural charm to the max and all those who meet and converse with them would never once imagine that the same woman who stood before them - red, floor-length gown, immaculate hair and makeup, cloaked in expensive-looking accessories - could mow down a herd of zombies and B.O.Ws better than some of the agents her husband works with.

So yeah, everything was going well up until about an hour after the dreaded event had started. She and Leon had just finished making pleasantries with some high ranking officer of some government division (Claire wasn’t exactly listening, more like just smiling and nodding). Leon had walked away from her for what was supposed to have been just a moment, some indiscriminate amount of time long enough for him to grab to champagne flutes because fuck if they were getting through this night not even a little buzzed when someone had swooped in and spirited him off. She saw his attempt at escape but it was no use, eventually, he was consumed by the crowd and Claire found herself alone feeling lost, a bit anxious, and  _ way _ too sober.

She wandered the hall alone for a few minutes. Eventually, she was able to locate one of the staff members and glorious alcohol but even then she couldn’t down it like she wanted to. No, she still had to keep up appearances so small, stretched out sips it was. Leon was well known and highly renowned among these people who, ironically, highly irritated him. Thus, it would not bode well to have rumors spreading that Leon Kennedy - the President’s most trusted agent - had a wife who was not a stranger with the bottom of a bottle. Claire had to chuckle at that thought remembering the unhealthy amount of whiskey and women her now-husband would go through to stop the terrors that haunted his mind. They all had ways of coping, his and Chirs’ were definitely among the worse but once Leon realized what he truly wanted out of life; once he realized the one woman he truly  _ needed _ , his habits began to improve. Now, he was the monogamous, sometimes casual drinker, she loved to love.

“What’s a pretty lady like yourself laughing about in such a dead place like this?”

Claire turned at the questioning voice to find a man who was probably not much older than her wearing, what he probably assumed, was a sensual, flirtatious smile. In reality, Claire thought he was just shy of looking constipated.

“ Oh, just thinking of some fond memories.” She indulged him. Immediately, she wished she hadn’t.

“ Well I bet you and I could make some great new memories together. A girl as beautiful as you shouldn’t be alone on a night like this.”

“Thank you for your concern but I’m not actually alone.” Claire truly was trying to be polite. Normally she would have told a guy like him off, slapped him even for being so daring. But alas, her current circumstances demanded something more subtle so Claire switched her flute to her left hand raising it to her mouth to take a slow, exaggerated drink of the bubbly liquid; wedding ring on full display. Apparently, whoever this joker thought he was didn’t respond to subtly. Or worse - he could just be that dumb that he didn’t catch the sparkling rock sat proudly on her finger.

“My name’s Jordan. I’m an agent.” Jordan was probably used to all the ladies throwing themselves at him with that line. But unlike those girls who would jump at the chance to potentially hit it off with a low- level government agent, Claire had a husband who was probably this guy’s bosses, bosses, boss. Not that position or any possible paychecks would matter anyway. Leon had way more charisma in his pinky than this guy could ever dream of acquiring. That and shared trauma.

“Look Jordan, you seem like a nice guy bu-” apparently calling him a “nice guy” was not the best call. 

“ Great, glad we’re on the same page. Why don’t you tell me your name then pretty lady?”

Claire grimaced. She’s dealt with guys like this before - time and time again in fact- so, in hindsight, she really should have seen that one coming. She truly was trying to be cordial but if he used another putrid line like “pretty lady” or “beautiful girl” on her again she was about to throw caution to the wind and fuck the societal standards of the upper echelons of the bureaucratic world. She knew she was beautiful thank you very much. Her husband told her every day both in words and his actions. She didn’t need to hear it coming from a creep like this. She was about to respond when she a familiar, muscled arm slip comfortably around her waist.

“Claire, I’ve been looking for you for the better part of the last half hour.” Leon had arrived. Yet again, jus tin time to save the day. She knew he had noticed the cretin trying to chat her up just mere feet in front of them and she also knew that him ignoring said annoyance was intentional. 

“ I’m not the one who left to get us champaign and never came back.” She sassed back playfully. 

Her only response was that sultry smirk he always adopted when he knew he was about to stir up some trouble. Leon always said that he didn’t start things, rather he ended them. Everyone who knows him knows that that’s utter bullshit - Leon loved causing trouble. This time though Jordan had definitely started it and the look on her husband’s face told Claire he was about to end it.

“Claire? Very fitting I’d say,” she wished he’d just walk away for his own sake, “ I was right about you having a pretty name. Who’s your less pretty friend.”

“Oh, him?” Claire asked in a manner far too dainty to be genuine. She placed her right hand over Leon’s chest, hanging onto one of the lapels of his neatly tailored tux and effectively leaning into his embrace. Claire noticed with small satisfaction that Leon’s attire for tonight probably cost more than Jordan’s yearly salary.

“ He’s not my friend.”

“I’m her husband.” At that Claire took it a step further, resting her head on his chest as well - she was really playing it up but she had to admit, she loved to see Jordan squirm. 

“And, if you insist on chatting up my wife, you should at least introduce yourself.” Leon extended his hand not currently holding up his wife to shake hands with Jordan who seemed utterly confused. Claire wasn’t though, she knew exactly what Leon was doing. 

Leon S. Kennedy was a name known throughout this circle. Most didn’t have a face to match to the name (Jordan certainly didn’t) but he was an imposing figure none the less. The story that the lower levels knew was of course a scrubbed version of the truth but that doesn’t change the fact that Agent Kennedy was still the best in the game and would probably live on as such forever.

This was the game Leon was playing out. The pleasantries were the bait and Jordan fell for it hook, line, and sinker. The lesser man straightened his back in an attempt to look more imposing before introducing himself.

“Jordan Allen.” The handshake was curt and strong. The smirk on Leon’s face was large and evident.

“Leon S. Kennedy.”

Jordan dropped Leon’s hand as if he were burned by fire. If the little agent had been squirming before, he was writhing now. Jordans, mouth opened and closed in awe, trying to make his brain function enough to form coherent words instead of just gaping noises. The poor man was probably both star-struck and terrified at the same time.

_ Hitting on  _ the  _ Leon Kennedy’s wife? He’ll probably lose his job for this! _

This was the reaction Leon was hoping to procure. He turned to her next, Jordan still gaping. Age-old territorialism won about and Leon was ready to cement what was his. And she was his, just as much as he was hers in the same sense.

He ducked his head to whisper sensually in her ear, loud enough for Jordan to hear but just quiet enough that no one else would. 

“ Let’s go home  _ Red.” He nibbled on her earlobe,  _ “I’ve done my job here and now I want you all to myself.” 

Now, Claire was giddy. Leon didn’t call her  _ Red _ much. As far as terms of endearment went, he tended to stick to  _ Angel  _ or  _ Angel Wings _ . But when he did call her by the color of her hair, she knew she was in for it in  _ all of the best ways. _

“Oh really?” She teased back all giggly, still paying her role.

“Mmhm,” he hummed his affirmation into the juncture of her neck and shoulder sending a chill down her spine. Surly their current position was far too scandalous for their location but Claire couldn’t be bothered to care. Especially considering her husband’s next words. Voice still low as to not be overheard by anyone but their immediate audience, Leon spoke in the cool, confident, no-nonsense tone he knew made her melt,

“ When I’m done with you you’ll be walking sideways for a week!”

It was all Claire could do to stop herself from squealing as her husband spirted them out of the ballroom the event was being held in. He made kind but curt goodbyes to whoever tried to stop them for a moment of their time. All the while smiled and nodded along - playing her role like the dependent wife she was. 

They didn’t dare drop the facade until they were home for if they had done so earlier Claire was sure Leon would have pulled over somewhere on the side of the road and had his way with her in the backseat of their car and she knew she wouldn’t have objected either. But that’s not what either of them wanted from tonight.

So when they were finally home, in the privacy of their bedroom, they could stop pretending because they didn’t need to pretend for what came next. All night long Leon worshiped her like the queen she was. Claire was a smart girl and she knew that his actions stemmed from both a place of jealousy and insecurity.

Leon tended to be a bit more rough than usual the occasional times another man would so blatantly hit on Claire but it was more for  _ him  _ to touch  _ her, _ feel  _ her _ . To know that she was there with  _ him _ that she had chosen  _ him _ time and time again. He was always extra gentle with her afterward, going great lengths to ensure her comfort. He was not joking about her not walking straight. 

She was more than fine with it - their understanding of each other on a deeper level than most could ever understand. Claire always made sure to comfort him as well in the aftermath of their coupling; quell the insecurities that had begun to bubble up to the surface.

Everyone had their way of coping and this was theirs. And she’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy being screwed six ways from Sunday by her sex - god of a Husband. 

So in reality, Claire supposed her night may have taken an undesirable turn somewhere in the middle, but as she lay wrapped in the arms of the man she loves and who loves her back just as fiercely, Claire reasons that she could survive a few stuffy galas and social events. She’d do anything for Leon and she knew, without a doubt, he’d do the same and more for her.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope no one got offended by the whole "traditional" wife section (I hope my intentions came off clear the point was to do whatever makes you happy in life but that just isn't Claire's calling or at least I don't see it as being for her after everything she's been through). I really tried to make that message clear. On a lighter note, thank you for reading! Please please please leave a comment! hearing your opinion and knowing people enjoy the content makes me want to write for you guys even more! As always I'm always open to constructive criticism and if you have any prompts/requests for Cleon leave them in a comment. I will forever live in a world where they are married and have babies and work through their trauma together while somehow continuously having life or death run-ins. This was a long note but THANK YOU AGAIN FOR READING!


End file.
